Chapter Twenty: A Narrow Escape

The sacrifices of Old Qiu and Chang Zhicheng bought precious time for Nie Yunyang and Mu Qingyao, who had already crossed the forest and put considerable distance between themselves and their pursuers.

Having lived in Longhu Mountain for ten years, Nie Yunyang knew how to survive in the wilderness. Mu Qingyao, having grown up in Chaiping Town, was intimately familiar with the surrounding area—whether it was chopping firewood or gathering mushrooms, she had traversed this region many times.

At first, Nie Yunyang worried that Mu Qingyao’s deep-seated obsession would drive her to impulsively turn back, so he carried her on his shoulders. Fortunately, Mu Qingyao was slender, weighing only around a hundred pounds, allowing Nie Yunyang to carry her for nearly five kilometers.

However, as time passed, Nie Yunyang’s strength waned, especially with Mu Qingyao struggling wildly, which exhausted him further. When he finally set her down, he gasped for breath, utterly drained. For an ordinary person, even running a kilometer on mountain trails would be exhausting, let alone carrying a burden.

Nie Yunyang dared not rest long, fearing the assassins would catch up. After regaining some breath, he pulled Mu Qingyao along and pressed forward.

“How many mountain paths are there in this area? Where’s the nearest? The farthest?” Nie Yunyang asked as they ran.

He no longer advanced blindly. The only way to escape danger was to return to the city. Moreover, he was prepared to contact Cao Weihua’s friend.

Mu Qingyao wasn’t certain. She pulled out her Huawei Mate 60 phone and, seeing there was still signal, began to locate their position.

“There’s only one—Baomao Expressway. To the south lies the Tayun Mountain Scenic Area; to the north is Xianyang City,” she said.

Nie Yunyang pondered briefly. “We’ll head to Baomao Expressway. If we can hitch a ride, great. If not, I’ll figure something out. At this critical moment, don’t trust strangers.”

“I understand,” Mu Qingyao replied, now relying solely on Nie Yunyang.

...

The assassins had scoured the mountain ridge but found no sign of Mu Qingyao. The middle-aged leader cursed loudly, “You useless bunch, how could a woman slip through your hands?”

“We thought they were all in the forest. Didn’t expect them to pull a decoy trick,” one killer said in frustration.

The leader’s nostrils flared. “Damn it! This huge mountain range—where do we even look for Mu Qingyao now? We were supposed to seize the property and eliminate the threat, but now we’ve botched the job. How can we face our employer?”

“Boss, should we widen the search?” another asked tentatively.

Suddenly, another killer ran over, “Boss, Brother Zhao called. The police have been dispatched—someone must have reported us.”

“Damn. Clean up the bodies thoroughly. Leave no trace. Once done, we get out of here fast,” the leader snarled.

...

Nie Yunyang and Mu Qingyao ran for half an hour before reaching Baomao Expressway. Though traffic was heavy, no one stopped despite Nie Yunyang’s attempts to hitch a ride.

At last, he took a desperate stand in the middle of the road, flashing his flashlight. A Tesla finally pulled over.

The driver cursed, calling Nie Yunyang an old fool with nothing better to do. Only after Mu Qingyao employed her charms did the driver agree to give them a lift.

As the Tesla sped forward, Mu Qingyao’s tense heart finally relaxed. She clung to Nie Yunyang, sobbing uncontrollably. She had believed she was doomed that night, and not knowing the fate of Old Qiu and Chang Zhicheng only deepened her despair.

“It’s over now. Everything’s past,” Nie Yunyang soothed, rubbing her back gently.

After a while, Mu Qingyao rested against him. This ordeal had utterly shaken her worldview.

In today’s China, a society governed by law, how could someone want her dead?

Once Mu Qingyao fell asleep, Nie Yunyang took out his Xiaomi 11 phone and dialed the number Cao Weihua had given him. The voice on the other end cut straight to the point: “Is this Young Master Nie?”

“Uncle Wei, sorry to bother you at this hour,” Nie Yunyang said.

The man, Wei Yi, had made his fortune in antiques and was well-known in both legitimate and underground circles, wielding considerable influence in Shaanxi.

Wei Yi chuckled, “Old Cao and I have been close friends for years. You’re his godson. Now that you’re in trouble, how could I stand by and do nothing?”

Godson?

Nie Yunyang cursed Cao Weihua’s ancestors internally but understood the ploy. Only by emphasizing this connection would Wei Yi lend his aid.

“Uncle Wei, do you have contacts in Xianyang?” Nie Yunyang asked.

At that moment, Wei Yi was entertaining city officials at the Licai Tianxi Hotel on Baoquan Road in Qindu District. He smiled, “Old Cao warned me that your trip to Zhen’an was dangerous. Conveniently, I have business in Xianyang and came ahead. Where are you now? I’ll send a car for you.”

“I encountered some trouble. I’m on Baomao Expressway now, probably two hours from the city,” Nie Yunyang replied.

Wei Yi paused, then said, “Good. Head straight to Licai Tianxi Hotel. No matter what happens, don’t panic. I can’t guarantee safety in Shaanxi, but in Xianyang, no one dares to touch you.”

Hearing this, Nie Yunyang felt much more at ease. He had feared the mastermind’s power might even threaten Xianyang.

After hanging up, he turned to the driver, “Brother, please take us to the Licai Tianxi Hotel in Xianyang. I’ll give you 800 yuan for your trouble.”

“Alright,” the driver said, his earlier complaints replaced by shining eyes.

...

Meanwhile, Wei Yi did not rush back to the banquet table but took out his phone to call Cao Weihua, recounting the night’s events.

On the other end, Cao Weihua laughed, “Brother, you really helped me a lot. I owe you one, and I’ll repay you someday.”

“Haha, Old Cao, with our friendship, there’s no need for thanks. As long as my nephew is safe, that’s all that matters. If anything happened on my turf, I wouldn’t face you,” Wei Yi said.

Two hours later, Nie Yunyang and Mu Qingyao arrived safely at the Licai Tianxi Hotel. Wei Yi was still entertaining officials, but he ordered his men to take the two to rest and promised to join them shortly.

As for Chaiping Town, the police had arrived. Unfortunately, besides the two abandoned cars, they found nothing. Old Qiu and Chang Zhicheng had been thoroughly disposed of—the assassins left no trace.

The police secured the scene, dispatched forensic experts to search for evidence, and traced the vehicles to the Mu family. Soon, the elders were shocked and hurriedly called Mu Yin and Mu Qingyao.

An hour later, Wei Yi finally ended his banquet with the city leaders, still smelling of alcohol but clear-headed.

“Greetings, Uncle Wei,” Nie Yunyang stood respectfully but confidently.

Wei Yi nodded, “Yunyang, sit down. We’re family—no need for formalities. Tell me, what troubles have you run into?”

Before Nie Yunyang could speak, Wei Yi noticed Mu Qingyao and asked after a glance, “Are you Mu Bailing’s daughter?”

Mu Qingyao froze, never expecting this man to know her.

“He’s Uncle Wei. Her name is Mu Qingyao, indeed Mu Bailing’s daughter,” Nie Yunyang said.

Upon hearing this, Wei Yi smiled at Mu Qingyao. “Don’t be nervous. I was good friends with your father. Every time I went to Chongqing for business, he’d host me. But how did you two end up together?”

“Uncle Wei, you might not know—Uncle Mu has passed away. This trip to Chaiping Town was to lay him to rest,” Nie Yunyang sighed.

Wei Yi was stunned. After a long pause, he asked, “Bailing died? When?”

“Uncle Wei, it’s a long story. I’ll explain later. Right now, we need your help. Two friends of ours are missing, their fate unknown,” Nie Yunyang said.

Wei Yi took a deep breath. “Whatever you need me to do, just say the word.”

Thus, Nie Yunyang recounted the night’s events and all the circumstances leading up to them with careful detail...